


all these people think love's for show, but i would die for you in secret

by aryasbitch



Series: just let me adore you like it's the only thing i'll ever do [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, American Football/Cheerleading Au, Bisexual Arya Stark, Cheerleader Arya Stark, Cheerleaders, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Football Player Tommen, Friends to Lovers, Getting to Know Each Other, Lesbian Myrcella Baratheon, Mutual Pining, Myrcella Baratheon and Tommen Baratheon are Twins, Oral Sex, POV Tommen Baratheon, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, mutual pining dumbasses to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25704628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryasbitch/pseuds/aryasbitch
Summary: The uniform on any other cheerleader has no effect on Tommen. On any other girl (or the few boys) on the team who have modified uniforms, it's just clothing in the school colors of black and blue.It is, decidedly, not like that on Arya.or, tommen is in love with arya and spends 14k pining
Relationships: Arya Stark & Daenerys Targaryen, Asha Greyjoy/Daenerys Targaryen, Myrcella Baratheon & Tommen Baratheon, Myrcella Baratheon/Tyene Sand, Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Tommen Baratheon/Arya Stark
Series: just let me adore you like it's the only thing i'll ever do [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864231
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	all these people think love's for show, but i would die for you in secret

**Author's Note:**

> \- i don't know basically anything about football, and I don't know a ton about cheer, so almost everything I've mentioned is from the internet.  
> \- title is from peace by taylor swift  
> \- the ages of the characters are:  
> junior year (16/17): tommen, myrcella, arya, daenerys, tyene  
> senior year (17/18): sansa, margaery, joffrey, myranda, podrick, asha

“You know, if you keep staring, she’ll eventually catch on.” 

Tommen jumps at Myrcella’s voice, too busy staring into space to be paying attention to his sister walking up to him. Space, meaning Arya Stark, stretching and bending in ways that make it look as if she has a dozen broken bones. 

Tommen turns his gaze away from Arya to look at Myrcella, who is pointedly staring at him. He realizes he still hasn't said anything, and she cocks her head at him, blonde ponytail swinging behind her.

“What?” He asks dumbly. He isn’t quite sure what they’re talking about, to be honest, and his eyes are drawn back to Arya. The left side of her hair had been light purple the week before but is now a pleasant shade of blue that reminds Tommen of hydrangeas in the springtime.

“Arya,” As if she can hear them from where she is, Arya turns to face the two, smiling and waving even as Tommen blushes pink and jerks his head away. Myrcella is smirking at him, looking between him and the girl in question. “She has eyes. If she hasn’t noticed you staring already, she will soon if you keep at it.”

Tommen blinks, trying and failing to think of how he can spin this without revealing that he has an embarrassingly large crush on a girl so far out of his league he doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as her. 

He’s had a crush on since they were fourteen and she showed up to their first day of freshman year with flowers in her hair and punched Ramsey Bolton when he had called her a cunt, or a bitch, or some other insult that Tommen doesn’t remember but makes his blood boil anyways. 

“I wasn’t looking at her,” Myrcella tilts her head and hums, spurring him into continuing, “I was looking at Daenerys.” 

Both twins turn to look at the Targaryen, who is in the middle of doing a front split beside Arya, her silver hair pulled up in a ponytail. The two girls are talking animatedly, Dany nodding along to whatever Arya is saying while both continue to work on their stretches.

Tommen sheepishly looks back at Myrcella, who is looking at him with a mix of amusement of exasperation. He already knows there is no way she believes him.

“Why were you staring at Daenerys then?” She places her hands on her hips. There is no way he’s getting out of this.

“She’s pretty, is all.” Myrcella squints. It’s not as if Dany _isn’t_ pretty. Every warmblooded male, female, and nonbinary member of their school agrees that Daenerys Targaryen is easily one of the prettiest girls in their school. Agreed to be up top with her are also Arya, Myrcella, Sansa Stark, and Margaery Tyrell.

Tommen thinks Arya is the prettiest out of the five, without a doubt. The rest are pretty as well of course, and Tommen would never say anything negative about his sister, but Arya is different. 

“Daenerys isn’t your type.” Tommen blinks back into awareness because once again he’s been daydreaming about Arya and how pretty she is. It’s becoming quite a problem, really. He nearly failed his maths exam at the end of last year when the half of her hair that’s now blue was neon pink.

“How do you know my type?” Tommen demands.

Myrcella only sighs, “Your type is solely small females with dark hair who have a streak for pranking our douche of a brother. Plus, Daenerys has been dating Asha Greyjoy for years, you’d never pine after someone in a relationship.”

Tommen’s nose wrinkles up at the thought. Going after someone in a relationship while knowing they’re in one is one of the lowest things to do.

Myrcella places a hand on his shoulder, and her eyes look softer than before when he meets them. “I wasn’t trying to be pushy, Tommen. I’m all for you finally admitting your feelings and getting together with her. I just meant that if you aren’t planning on telling her anytime soon, you should try to be a bit more subtle.” 

Tommen stares after her as she flounces away in the direction of the other cheerleaders.

As Myrcella sits down beside Margaery and Sansa, King’s Landing’s cheerleading team’s captain and co-captain respectively, he really can’t help how his eyes are drawn to Arya once more. He knows in a minute he has to turn back for his own practice for football, but this is all he has of Arya.

Watching her from afar at their overlapping practices and in classes they share. He doesn’t have anything else with her. Tommen doesn’t think he ever will.

-

Tommen’s standing at his locker the following Friday when Daenerys approaches him. She has her hands clasped behind her and looks both smug and overjoyed, which is a terrifying combination when it comes to her. 

He gives her a welcoming smile when she leans against the locker next to his. He and Daenerys aren’t close by any means, but he’s not going to be rude. If anything, she might just be asking about homework, considering they share third period English class. The glint in her eye gives him another idea before she even opens her mouth.

“So, Arya?” She crosses her arms over her chest, and Tommen’s jaw drops. If Myrcella told Daenery’s anything, he’s going to have to murder her. Or, just ignore her for a few days in disappointment. As if she can read his mind (which he wouldn’t put past her) Daenerys rolls her eyes and says, “No, Myrcella didn’t say anything. You’re just not that subtle.”

Tommen drops his head to the cool metal of his locker and exhales.

“How long have you known?” Daenerys shrugs and looks down at her feet, not so much nervous but more so to make him more comfortable so they can both pretend he’s not blushing.

“Since freshman year.” 

Tommen gapes and Daenerys looks up at him, purple eyes trained on his face. “That long? I’ve had a crush on her since then, and you’ve known the whole time?”

Dany only shrugs and nods. Tommen has to resist the urge to run. It’s not as if he’s ashamed of his feelings for Arya, because if she asked he would gladly shout to the entire world how much he lov- _likes_ her. But now Daenerys knowing for the last two years means anyone could know and that’s not something he loves to hear.

When he asks just who knows Dany's knowledge, she has to take a second to think, and Tommen nearly whimpers.

“Myranda Royce, Missandei, Asha. Sansa and Margaery only just figured it out, but that’s because they’re too busy making out to pay attention to anyone else-,” Tommen’s eyes widen further at each name she lists, “I think Bran knows, because Bran knows everything, but he and Sansa won’t tell any of the other Starks.”

Daenerys finally seems to register the growing look of horror on his face and gives a comforting smile, placing a tentative hand on his arm. “I’m not saying this to freak you, I swear. All I meant is that all of the people who know also completely support you two figuring your shit out and finally getting together.”

Tommen smiles back, because even as much as this sucks, Daenerys is nothing if not nice. And then her words register and his brows furrow.

“What do you mean ‘figure our shit out’?” Daenerys’ eyes widen and her mouth drops a bit, both of which she tries to mask but he sees before she can do so. “And, what about finally getting together?”

Daenerys opens her mouth, maybe to reply or deny what she’s said, but her hand on her skirt draws his eyes lower. She’s fidgeting with the fabric out of nerves, and it’s only with that movement that he realizes just what she’s wearing.

The King’s Landing cheerleading uniform.

Which makes perfect sense, really, because she’s a cheerleader and there’s a game tonight, which he also knows because he’s on the bloody football team. But Daenerys wearing the uniform also means the rest of the team is wearing it, which specifically means that one of the people wearing it is-

_Arya._

“Hi, Dany.” Arya chooses that moment to appear, drawing herself close to the other girl so Daenerys can wrap her arm around her and pull her to her side. The two sit like that most of the time they’re together, all wrapped around each other like koalas. Arya turns grey eyes to him, giving him a wide smile as she says, “Hey, Tommen.”

He tries to reply, he does, but it's hard when his eyes naturally roam over her figure and she’s wearing _that_. The cheerleading uniform is both short and tight, the top cropped a few inches below her tits and the sleeves reaching to her wrists. 

The skirt is a whole other issue. It hits several inches above her knees, and both perfectly hugs the figure of her ass and displays the length of her legs, which seem to go on forever in the skirt. The small slit in the side of it hits dangerously high on her thigh, and he has to look up to her face to avoid staring at her legs or chest for any longer.

That’s not any better, really.

Her hair is half pulled back out of her face, half of it still blue, and her eyes are as silver as ever, framed by small fake gems that line her the outside of her eyes in a way that Tommen knows Myrcella would have labeled as ‘something out of _Euphoria’_ because she made him watch it with her. 

The gems might be real, to be honest.

The uniform on any other cheerleader has no effect on him. On any other girl (or the few boys) on the team who have modified uniforms, it's just clothing in the school colors of black and blue. 

It is, decidedly, not like that on Arya.

Tommen finally realizes he has been staring for an inappropriately noticeable amount of time and snaps his vision back into focus. Daenerys is smirking, her hand still placed on Arya’s waist, and Arya’s mouth is moving. Oh gods, if he starts thinking about her mouth and her lips, he’ll never stop.

“Sorry, what was that?” He shakes his head and blinks once more. 

“I just asked how you were doing.” Arya has one brow raised and she looks concerned, probably because he had been checking out her legs for no reason. She and Daenerys share a look that Tommen cannot even begin to decipher before he finally realizes he should be talking by now.

“Oh, right. I’m fine, thank you. And you?” The concern on her face washes away until it's replaced by a soft smile, and Tommen thinks he understands what it means when people say _love at first sight_. Not that he hasn’t seen her before, but each time he sees her the breath gets knocked out of him.

“I’m fantastic. Mostly just excited about the game. We have new stunts we’re trying out tonight.” Arya’s eyes light up as she begins to talk of cheerleading, and it’s easy for Tommen to grin along with her.

“We’re doing double pike basket tosses,” Daenerys adds, and Tommen nods along and smiles as if he knows what that means. He knows from Myrcella (and watching their practices) that Arya and Daenerys are flyers when it comes to stunning, but that's as far as his knowledge goes. 

Arya tilts her head at him, assessing him, and his smile drops. But then her grin widens and she laughs. “You have no idea what that means, do you?”

He laughs as well, neither of them noticing as Daenerys lets go of Arya and backs away from the two. He shakes his head in guilt, and answers, “Absolutely no idea.”

She throws her head back and laughs once more and it's easy to join in. Eventually, it simmers down to a quiet giggle and she crosses her arms over her chest. He deliberately avoids looking down at her tits.

“Well, I’ll have to explain it sometime.” His heart feels a bit like it's bursting out of his chest at her suggestion. She wants to teach him cheerleading?

“I’d like that.” Arya raises a cool brow, smirking up at him.

“Cool. I’ll see you tonight, then.” As she brushes by him, Tommen swears he can smell frost and winter itself. He watches after her as she walks down the hall, transfixed. He doesn’t notice as Daenerys moves back to beside him, this time with Myrcella in tow.

It’s only when he turns and sees the two that he jumps and groans at their matching grins.

“You should ask her out already.” Myrcella nods in agreement.

“Or skip that and just kiss her. Just go for it.” Tommen can’t walk away fast enough. He can hear them laughing behind him, but it doesn’t bother him as much as it would have the day before. Not when he had a coherent conversation with Arya Stark of all people.

Nothing can bring down his joy after that.

-

The game that night is, in one word, eventful. 

Tommen and Myrcella manage to arrive on the field at the same time as Arya, who immediately breaks from her sister and Margaery to greet them. She had grinned at him and he had blushed so hard he must've looked as if he was about to pass out, because she had added glitter under the gems and her hair looked even prettier under the light of the setting sun.

Myrcella had rolled her eyes and pushed him away with a giggle so she and Arya could head inside to stretch away from the football team. Arya had looked over her shoulder as they left, smirking at him, and then he really did almost pass out.

It’s honestly pathetic how glad Tommen is the cheerleaders aren’t doing their stretches in front of the team, since he really doesn’t need the distraction of her pressing her ankle up against her ear or bending over to practice kicking back over her head (because apparently she can do that without pulling all sorts of muscles).

It was embarrassing getting a hard-on every time he saw her doing so, and he really doesn’t need one in front of hundreds of people at a game.

The game itself is somehow both better and worse than his attempt to converse with Arya before the game had started. The game gives him something else to focus on, considering he’s playing on the field the whole time, but he spends a good portion of his time looking over at the cheerleaders any moment he’s safe to.

Halftime means the cheerleaders run out to the field to do their stunts, where Arya and Daenerys are tossed into the air, twisting and stretching into the double pike basket tosses. He had looked them up during lunch break, watching video after video until he was sure he could be able to recognize them when Arya did it on the field.

Tommen grins out at the sight of the stunt. As terrified as he is that she or Dany will fall and break a bone or two, they both look bloody insane. In a good way, of course. 

Tommen swears he can see the glitter under Arya’s eyes glinting from across the field.

-

The game ends and their team beats Riverlands High 24 to 17. Tommen’s cheering along with the rest of the team and the members of the stands as the cheerleaders surround them, having finished their final cheers for the game.

He spots Arya immediately, the blue of her hair a beacon among the rest of the blondes and browns and occasionally other shades within the team. She’s beaming as she approaches, practically launching herself into his arms.

Tommen doesn’t stop to think as he wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her so her feet don’t touch the ground and spinning them as she laughs into his ear, her arms around his neck. Just as the realization sets in, she jumps back, bouncing on her toes as she shouts to be heard among the crowd.

“You were amazing!” Her pom-poms are missing, but she’s clapping anyways as if she’s still in cheering mode. It makes him want to kiss her, badly, because how can someone be so adorable? He pushes back the urge and clasps his hands over hers, swinging them softly between them.

“You too!” He’s grinning and bouncing a bit now as well, her energy having rubbed off on him. “The pike tosses were bloody incredible!”

Arya’s bouncing slows to more of a gentle lift onto her toes then back to the balls of her feet, and she cocks her head.

“The double pike basket tosses?” The glitter on her face has flecks of purple and pink in it when she moves. Tommen hadn’t noticed earlier, but she’s so much closer now, and he can make out the colors clearer, “I thought you didn’t know what those were?”

_Oh. Shit._

He blinks a bit, trying to decide what to say. There’s no way he can say he spent ten minutes sitting in the bathroom looking up what the tosses were and failing for the first six minutes since he couldn’t for the life of him remember what Daenerys had called the move. She’ll think he’s some sort of obsessive creep.

He’s definitely blushing now, and she’s still staring at him, since he hasn’t said anything. Arya beats him to it.

“Did you look it up, or something?” She tilts her head again, her hair moving over her shoulder as she does so. She’s taken it down at some point since the game ended, since it was half pulled back when she had been cheering during the game. The strands have the slightest curl at the end of them where they fall at the top of her breast, and they look soft and silky and very, very distracting.

“Yeah. I did.” 

“Oh.” Her cheeks are a bit red, but he would be too after jumping into splits and being thrown into the air, “Why?”

“I wanted to know what it looked like.” He shrugs as if it's all very casual and his heart isn’t beating out of his chest. 

Arya can very obviously tell, since the red of her cheeks suddenly fades and she raises a brow, lips tilting up into a smirk.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Arya only hums, lips tilting up until more of a genuine smile rather than the look of a wolf stalking its prey. 

“Arya!” Daenerys comes up behind the brunette, jumping up and placing her hands on Arya’s shoulders, forcing the girl to duck down under the force of her weight. Arya laughs, turning to bring her arms around the silver-haired girl.

Dany pulls back and begins to talk in cheerleader language that Tommen can’t even begin to understand but plans to look up later before Myrcella comes up and nearly tackles Tommen.

“Hey!” He groans under her weight, shifting to grab her so she doesn’t fall, but he’s still smiling. 

“Hi. You were amazing, Cella.” Myrcella blushes under his praise, as she usually does when she receives compliments.

“Thanks, you were alright, I guess.” Tommen shoves at her shoulder and she giggles before its cut off, her vision suddenly distracted by something. He follows her vision until he sees where she’s looking: Tyene Sand, one of the other girls on the cheer team, who stands surrounded by her several sisters.

_Interesting._

Myrcella feels his gaze back on her soon enough, turning back with a fierce blush and hitting him lightly in the arm. He laughs but doesn’t say anything. 

She rolls her eyes and turns away, groaning when her vision immediately lands on Daenerys and Asha with their tongues down each other's throat a few feet away. Tommen can’t help but notice Arya is missing and tries to stamp down his disappointment.

He turns back to Myrcella, ignoring Asha and Dany still going at it, and the two share a look of mutual disgust at the display before heading home.

-

“Why did you look up what the stunt was?” Tommen nearly chokes as Arya sits down across from him at lunch. She props her head up onto her hand and lifts a brow as she waits for his answer.

“I wanted to see more about how cheerleading works.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” It’s almost as if he hasn’t rehearsed this exact conversation in his mirror ten times, in the chance that Arya would ask him about it.

“Hm.” She tilts her head, and he thinks that's the end of it. But this is Arya. 

“Why didn't you ask Myrcella?”

He shrugs and says, “I never understand what the cheerleaders are saying. I figured visuals would make more sense, so I watched a video instead.”

Arya nods in understanding, and Tommen thanks all the gods that she’s accepted this over the truth of him wanting to understand what Arya is saying because her enthusiasm about cheerleading is entirely endearing and adorable.

“I could help, you know.” She’s staring down at the table when he looks up, and she looks a bit nervous, which he doesn't quite understand. Arya’s an incredible cheerleader, what should she be nervous about when it comes to cheer? “With you understanding cheer, I mean.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I love cheer, you know that. I’m always happy to spread my unlimited knowledge of the greatest sport to exist.” She’s smirking again, nerves having been taken over by confidence as she dares him to take the bait. He does.

“I didn’t know you were an expert at football?” He smiles at her, leaning back in his chair as she lets out a gasp of disbelief. Her eyes narrow and she leans forward, instantly making him regret leaning back.

“How dare you? Cheerleading is superior, that’s not an opinion! It’s just a well-known fact.” She crosses her arms and raises a brow as Tommen huffs in amusement.

“Isn’t that the definition of an opinion?” She’s biting back a smile, and he wishes just a bit that he was the one biting her lip. Okay, he wishes quite a bit that it was him.

“Hm, I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, alright.” He rolls his eyes, but there's no bite to it, “Football is still superior. _That’s_ a well-known fact.”

“I dare you to tell Myrcella that.” Arya’s grinning openly now, and he barks out a laugh at her words. “Give me your phone.”

He sobers at that, eyes widening.

“What?”

“So I can put my number in, dummy. I don’t want to have to message you through Instagram every time I want to teach you about all the ways cheer is superior.”

He blushes as he hands over his phone, and his fingers tingle when they brush her as she grabs his phone. She types in her number with rapid fingers before handing his phone back and checking her own phone as it vibrates. Tommen watches as she types for a few seconds before she looks back to him.

“I need to go, sorry. I have to meet Sansa, but text me, okay?” He nods and she stands to go, giving him a view of her jeans which hugs the curve of her ass in a way that should be illegal. Not that he notices her ass.

Arya wiggles her fingers in goodbye before turning to go, and Tommen wonders what the hell just happened. Myrcella’s going to lose her mind.

-

That night, Tommen spends five solid minutes staring at her phone number in his phone before he remembers he’s actually supposed to text her. It’s pathetic really, how gone he is for her. Then again, he really doesn't mind.

 **TOMMEN** : hey, this is tommen!

She responds within minutes.

 **ARYA** : thank GODS, i was wondering when you would text me  
**ARYA** : when are we doing cheerleading lesson one?  
**TOMMEN** : tomorrow? what are we learning exactly…  
**ARYA** : we will be learning whatever we need to until you understand how superior cheer is  
**TOMMEN** : so, this could go on for a while  
**ARYA** : OI  
**TOMMEN** : :)  
**ARYA** : i will see you tomorrow at my place at 4pm

Tommen tries to keep the grin off his face. He fails spectacularly.

-

When he arrives at Arya’s house, he’s not sure what to expect. Possibly her making him do stretches, or showing him stunts.

Nope.

She shows him _Bring It On_.

Arya loudly declares it the best cheer movie anytime he even opens his mouth to complain, but answers any questions he has, and he can see her watching him out of the corner of his eyes every so often. Most likely seeing if he’s learning anything.

It’s a good movie, but he doesn’t learn too much about cheerleading from it, honestly.

Tommen tells Arya such, and she boos and throws popcorn at him.

It’s not a bad way to spend the evening if he’s being honest with himself.

-

A few days later, Arya shows him the rest of the movies in the series. He continues to proclaim he isn’t learning anything, despite the fact that the language of it makes just a bit more sense. But he won’t tell her that, because it's a chance of her saying they’ve done enough research. 

So Tommen keeps his mouth shut and throws popcorn at her when she boos at him.

-

Myrcella pulls him to the side one day while he’s on his way to his room. He’s noticed her being quieter the past few weeks, ever since the game where he and Arya had hugged, but Tommen hadn’t wanted to push if it was something she wasn’t ready to talk about.

“I think I’m a lesbian. No, I know I’m a lesbian.” She’s wringing her hands together and they are shaking, but he doesn’t even blink.

“Okay.” He says. She stares back.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, Cella. Okay. I love you no matter what, okay? I don’t care if you’re straight, or gay, or transgender, or asexual. I just want you to be happy.”

She’s quiet for a moment as she processes his words, tears forming in her eyes before she throws herself into his arms. Tommen doesn’t hesitate to crush her to his chest, willing to provide any comfort she may need.

After a moment, Myrcella pulls back, wiping her eyes dry and laughing shakily.

“Thanks. I love you.” He nods and brushes away a stray tear, before a small smile forms on his face. She notices immediately, asking tentatively, “What?”

“...Does this have anything to do with Tyene?”

She groans and pushes him away, but this is just payback for all the shit he’s gotten for Arya. He hasn't even gotten warmed up yet.

-

Arya comes over to his house the following day, though they have to practically sneak her in to avoid his mother seeing her. She plops down onto his bed with ease as they enter Tommen’s room and he bites his lip as thoughts of other things they could do on his bed enter his mind.

It’s only made worse when she lays back, stretching her arms so the fabric of her already sinfully short shirt rides up further. Arya groans as one of her bones cracks and Tommen flushes and whips his eyes away.

His gaze lands on Ser Pounce lounging in a patch of sun and Tommen leans down to pick up the tabby. The cat immediately curls up into his arms, burrowing into Tommen’s chest as he turns to Arya. 

She’s grinning at him and Ser Pounce.

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

He smiles as well, “Three actually. Lady Whiskers and Boots are somewhere else.”

“And who’s this?”

“Ser Pounce,” Tommen sits beside her on his bed, and Ser Pounce moves from his arms to curl up beside Arya. She trails a hand down the cats back and smirks up at Tommen.

“Ser Pounce?” Tommen nods, not understanding why she’s repeated the name but blushing all the same.

“What?”

Arya shakes her head. “Nothing. It’s cute. So’s he.” She coos and rubs down Ser Pounce’s stomach, making the tabby meow in contentment.

“So, then, what’s our plan for today with cheer?” Arya grins up at him, smile resembling a wolf, and his heart flips. 

Oh, gods.

They watch dozens of compilations of stunting clips, Arya proclaiming he needs to see how hard the stunts are. He’s more focused on her commentary on each of the stunts than the videos themselves. Arya pauses one of the videos eventually, turning her eyes to him.

“So?”

“The stunts and moves are impressive, I agree,” Arya grins smugly, “-but I still don’t think it’s any better than football.”

Arya’s expression drops as she falls back to the pillow with a groan. Tommen snickers at her and reaches over her to reach for his water on his bedside table. When he leans back in his seat against his pillow she’s staring at some spot on his side with a flush on her cheeks, but when he looks down there’s nothing on him but his shirt.

Strange.

Arya turns back to his computer with a shake of her head, seemingly clearing her head and searches up the next film. Tommen tilts closer to read, not recognizing the title.

“ _All Cheerleaders Die_?”

“It’s not a classic or anything, but it has both cheerleaders and zombies, so it’s pretty much one of my favorites,” Tommen barks out a surprised laugh.

“Of course it is.”

The movie itself is enjoyable, even if it doesn’t convince him too much of how cheerleading is the greatest sport alive, like how Arya thinks it is. Halfway through, when a sex scene comes on between the pretty brunette cheerleader and the shy football player who’s been half in love with her forever, Tommen nearly throws his computer across the room.

Instead, he keeps his eyes locked firmly on the screen even as he blushes bright red, and Arya eyes him from her spot next to him. If he looks at her now, he won’t be able to stop himself from kissing her, or worse, trying to recreate the gods-awful sex scene still playing.

The boy moans, loudly, from beneath the girl, and Tommen clenches eyes shut, but that only aids in him seeing himself below Arya, moaning underneath her, and so he wrenches his eyes open to stop the visions. If he gets a hard-on right next to her he will never forgive himself.

Not to mention Arya might stab him and never speak to him again.

He spares a quick glance at her, but she is looking at the screen, somehow looking completely nonchalant as she plays with Boots on her lap. She must feel his eyes on her, because she looks his way, but she only smiles. She doesn’t even flinch as the cheerleader lets out a moan of pleasure.

He tries to smile back but he’s not sure it works.

The rest of the movie is sex-free, thankfully. Arya gets up from her spot on his bed as he shuts his laptop and the two head out his door so he can walk her out. As they do, they pass Myrcella’s room, the door partially open.

“Oh, is that Tyene?” Tommen can hear giggles, and true to Arya’s question, he sees Tyene when he peers inside. She and Myrcella are seated on the latter’s bed, curled up against each other. Tommen is about to step forward so they can say hello, his hand on the door, when Tyene tilts her head up and the two lean in and kiss.

Tommen can’t say he’s surprised, really, seeing them together, but his head shoots to Arya. She doesn’t look the least bit shocked either. She simply looks at Tommen and shrugs, motioning for them to continue down the hall without disturbing his sister.

Tommen watches her from behind as she walks down the hall. Her eyes hadn't even widened at the sight of Tyene and Myrcella’s intimacy. Then again, if there’s anyone who could know every little detail and secret, it's Arya Stark.

At the front door, as she laces up her boots, Tommen brushes a hand through his hair nervously.

“Hey, I don’t know if you knew about Tyene and Myrcella before, but, she’s not exactly out. So don’t tell anyone, please.” Arya looks up as she finishes on her shoes, her septum piercing glinting in the light. 

“Yeah, course. She didn’t tell me about Tyene, I just sort of guessed. But I’d never say anything about it, not if I didn’t know if she was out or not,” Arya shrugs and smiles, unbothered by his sister and Tyene, “Does your mum know?”

Tommen shakes his head and Arya hums understandingly. “Does yours? That you’re bi?”

Arya nods once, “I told her a few years ago. She didn’t take it well at first, she thought I was saying to rebel against her,” Tommen rolls his eyes in annoyance at the thought and Arya’s mouth turns up in agreement. “But she’s good about it now. I was the first of my siblings to come out too, anyways, and she’s been good about everyone else.”

Tommen nods, knowing the Stark siblings have been rather infamous for being largely queer. Rickon is the only one of them to be straight, Sansa being a lesbian and Jon, Robb, and Bran being bisexual along with Arya. Theon had come out as bisexual as well, and he’s practically a Stark as well.

“It doesn’t seem fair that only you got the homophobia from your mum. Or, biphobia, more like.” 

Arya turns her eyes to them, surprise evident in her widened eyes. It passes soon enough, her face relaxing to a passive expression. She shrugs, but he can see a glimmer of gratitude in the silver of her eyes.

“She’s always been the hardest on me because I was never the perfect, composed lady she wanted me to be. Me liking girls just made it worse at first, but I’m happy she’s educated herself about it. She’s fine now. Besides, my dad and siblings never had an issue with it.” She places a hand on his arm, and his skin seems to tingle even through his shirt, “But thank you.”

Their eyes lock for a moment, and all he can see is the grey of her eyes, the color of clouds before lightning strikes, and the silver of the sharpest of blades. His gaze drops to her lips. It would be so easy for him to move down and press his lips to hers, just a few inches really, he could finally do it-

“Tommen?” His mother’s voice rings out from the next room, and Arya steps back, her hand dropping. His arm feels colder without it. She smiles up at him and takes another step back, moving her hand to the door handle.

“Bye, Tommen. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She looks back over her shoulder at him halfway down the driveway, and his breath catches in his throat. What the hell is he going to do now?

-

The next day, after he’s spent all of school pretending not to be staring at Arya’s lips whenever he sees her and wishing he had kissed her the night before, he approaches Myrcella. It’s just before dinner, but he’s barely seen her since the day before. They’ve both been busy, him with Arya and her with Tyene.

“Myrcella,” She turns in the hall, looking up at him expectantly, “I just wanted you to know that Arya and I saw you and Tyene together yesterday. She won’t tell anyone, but we did see you kiss, and I thought you should know we saw you together. It didn’t seem fair for you not to know.”

Myrcella laughs, and Tommen furrows his brow. He didn’t think she would laugh at learning someone else has learned she’s with Tyene.

“You and Arya had the same idea, I suppose. She talked to me today at school and told me about it already. It’s fine, seriously, I trust her.”

Tommen breathes out, “Oh. Alright, cool.”

Myrcella nods slowly, “Cool.”

The twins stare at each other for a moment before Myrcella speaks again.

“So, how _is_ Arya?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, you two have been together an awful lot lately. I mean, you had her over last night. And you are in love with her. There haven’t been any other… developments with you two?” Tommen’s not blushing, he’s _not_.

“ _No._ ”

Myrcella raises her brows at Tommen, and he stares back stubbornly. It’s not as if anything has happened really. He’s a bit more in love with her than he was before they started spending time together two months ago, but it’s not as if they’re dating now.

Arya isn’t even interested in him.

“Fine,” Myrcella shrugs and brushes past Tommen for the kitchen.

“Fine,” He mutters after her, already heading after her.

Neither notice Joffrey behind the corner.

-

Joffrey is sneering at Tommen over his plate, which isn’t new, but now he looks smug as well. Mother keeps looking between him and Joff, but Tommen really has no idea what their brother is looking at him for.

Myrcella brushes her foot against his and he looks up at her over a sip of water. She cocks her head as subtly as she can to Joffrey, and her eyes clearly read _What is going on?_

The rise of both of Tommen’s brows says _No fucking clue_ , and Myrcella gives a jerk of a nod in response, which her mother seems to pick up on but doesn’t question.

Their father is noticeably absent, which, also, isn’t new. All three Baraetheon’s know of their parent’s increase in fighting over gods knows what, but their mother keeps glancing over her glass of wine to their father’s empty seat.

Ser Pounce brushes up against Tommen under the table, meowing softly. Tommen scratches him behind the ears affectionately and thinks of Arya and Ser Pounce earlier, how his cats had taken to her. He knows she likes dogs as well, since their wolf-dog hybrids are well known within the school. _Bloody Starks and their wolves_.

But he can’t help but smile at the thought of Arya and her direwolf, or Arya seeing Ser Pounce again. 

Joffrey snorts a laugh across the table.

Everyone’s eyes shoot up to him, but he’s only looking at Tommen. Tommen looks back with brows furrowed, because Joffrey’s always been rude to him and Myrcella but he isn’t really sure what he’s about to pick a fight about now.

“Is everything alright dear?” Mother sets down her glass and places her hands on her lap. Joffrey looks like he’s about to start laughing, which isn’t good.

“I heard the most interesting thing today.” Joffrey’s eyes shoot to Myrcella, and Tommen’s heart seizes. Joffrey can’t have found out Myrcella’s a lesbian, he can’t have. 

Myrcella’s eyes have widened and she must be thinking the same thing as him. The hand holding her fork is shaking a bit. But then Joffrey turns back to Tommen and Myrcella relaxes just a hair.

“Tommen, sweet, little Tommen, is in love with Arya Stark.” The table goes silent. Myrcella is fuming and Tommen’s jaw has dropped. He doesn’t want to look at Mother.

She _hates_ Arya. Hates all of the Starks really, but Arya especially, because Arya had humiliated Joffrey after he had publicly cheated on Sansa before she figured out she was gay and had started dating Margaery. And Arya has always gone against Mother’s uptight views of how young girls should behave, being bisexual and having nose piercings and dying her hair every other month.

Arya Stark is his mother’s worst nightmare.

The only thing worse would be _Myrcella_ being in love with Arya because then that would mean not only is Arya involved but that his sister likes girls instead of boys.

He turns slowly, keeping his body facing the table. His mother is staring down at her glass of wine and her jaw is trembling, most likely out of fury. She locks eyes with him and his begin to water, just a bit. 

Myrcella knocks her ankle against his, the only form of comfort she can give at the moment.

“That’s… that’s not true is it?” She looks like she doesn't want to believe it, but her brows are set in an angry line, “Joffrey’s just joking isn’t he?”

Joffrey looks to be having the time of his life, and Tommen wants to throw his plate at him, he really does.

“It’s true.” Everyone’s eyes widen at his admission, even Tommen’s himself. He’s never said it aloud, even when Myrcella has said it in the hallway. He hadn’t really meant to say anything about it now. Tommen had opened his mouth to deny it, really, but instead, _that_ came out. “I know you don’t like her, mum, but I do.”

Joffrey is fuming. Now, Tommen has the upper hand and Joffrey can’t use anything against him. His mother’s jaw has dropped and she can’t stop staring at him with large, angry eyes, as if this is the most disappointing thing he’s ever done. It probably is, to be quite honest.

Tommen thinks it's absurd that loving Arya is something he should be ashamed of, though. He says so without thinking about it, and he can see Myrcella grinning out of the corner of his eye.

It makes him sit a little straighter. At least he has her in this.

His mother doesn’t say anything else. She just keeps staring, looking as if she wants to scream but can’t, and Joffrey is still fuming but has returned to picking at his salad. Tommen grows tired of the silence quick enough and slides back his chair, standing and leaving the room without a second glance.

He can hear Myrcella behind him and doesn’t stop walking until he’s reached his bedroom. When he turns to face her, she launches herself in his arms, pulling back just as quickly.

“Holy shit, Tommen! I can’t believe you did that! You told mum you’re in love with _Arya Stark_ of all people!” Tommen is smiling a bit too now because he did, didn’t he? He brushes his hand through his hair as Myrcella keeps going, making no move to stop her, “And Joffrey looked so crushed. Gods that was incredible. You were incredible.”

She pulls him into one more hug before she mentions something about meeting up with Tyene and rushes off to her own room.

In his bedroom, Tommen tries to concentrate on his school work. All he can think about is his mother's face, and how weeks ago it would’ve reduced him to a fit of nerves over what his mother thought. But not anymore.

Not now, not when he loves Arya Stark.

-

The thing about admitting he loves Arya to his mother is that he has nothing to fear now. Sure, Arya could find out, and she could refuse to ever look him in the eye again, but at least his brother can’t use it against him and he no longer has to think of what his mother will do when she finds out.

It gives Tommen a bit of confidence, really. Well, it had, up until he had seen Arya during fourth period. The half of her hair that had been faded blue the day before is now neon green. 

It looks ridiculously good on her. His mother would scream if she saw it, which makes him love it just a little bit more.

Arya asks if he’s alright when he chokes on his drink at the sight of her hair, and he stumbles out some idiotic excuse while staring at the green, and then her lips, and she had smirked and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

So much for his confidence. 

Tommen sees Joffrey glaring at him near the end of the day, though, and that’s enough to raise his spirits and bring him back to the high he had been in before he had seen Arya.

His throws are cleaner at practice and he bounces a bit more on his toes whenever he moves. He can’t stop grinning under his helmet. Sure, Tommen still fumbles when he sees Arya stretching, but the green is just _so_ bright and noticeable and _pretty_.

When both football and cheerleading practices have ended and Myrcella has mysteriously disappeared, probably with Tyene, he approaches Arya. She’s standing with Daenerys by the bleachers, the two conversing quietly but quickly. Daenerys is beaming at him as he approaches, and he hears Arya hiss something her way before she turns to face him.

She sends him a grin as well. Arya turns back to say goodbye to Dany as he nears, and Daenerys sends him a wink before she turns and skips out of the room. 

“The brown is beautiful too you know,” He touches a strand of her hair lightly, pushing it back behind her ear as her cheeks turn a bit pink. He remembers embarrassingly admitting to liking the green, calling it “Very bright.” while she smirked at him. But her natural hair is just as pretty, and just as soft.

“Thanks. Are you ready to go?” They’d planned on hanging out again, Arya no doubt having another cheerleading movie ready to go in her Netflix queue. 

“Yep, you?”

“Yeah, can we just stop at the gym real quick? I need some help with a few stretches. I’ve been sore lately and I want to be ready for the game Friday.”

He blinks but agrees and they head to the gym, talking quietly as they go. The room is empty when they arrive, and they both drop their bags as Arya leads them to the mats attached to the wall.

“So what are we doing exactly?”

Arya presses herself flat back against the wall, rolling her eyes when he doesn’t move closer. 

“Stretching me out.”

“What?” Realistically, he knows she means stretches for cheerleading for the game, as she’d just explain, but he couldn’t help it as images of him helping her stretch with far less clothing fill his mind. Her below him with her head thrown back, or more realistically above him, maybe with her cheerleading uniform on.

Gods he needs to get it together.

Blood starts to rush south, which is the last thing Tommen needs now, especially now with Arya grabbing his arm to drag him closer to her, practically pressing him up against her. He shifts himself so his center is away from her as much as possible, but he can’t help the onslaught of new images.

Her up against the wall with her legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks her, or maybe around his shoulder as he’s down on his knees-

“Tommen? Are you alright?” Arya’s brows raise in concern, or maybe disgust at his probably incredibly obvious arousal, and she swings one leg up to her ear as he attempts to control his breathing. “I need you to hold my ankle.”

“Right.” 

He pushes it back against the mat and she sighs quietly in- _disappointment_? That doesn’t make sense. Tommen forces his eyes on her forehead even as she brings her hand up to his shoulder to steady herself.

After a few minutes, she signals for him to let go and switches so her other leg is up while the first remains planted on the ground, and Tommen bites his lip till it bleeds. It’s near impossible to not kiss her at this point.

When Arya finally proclaims she’s finished stretching, he pushes away as fast as possible, because he’s sure if he spends another minute pressed up against her like that he’ll end up confessing he’d just imagined fucking her.

And that won’t go well for anyone.

-

A week later, Tommen has been unable to get the images of Arya out of his brain. Of course, his brain was the one who supplied them, so of course, his brain then deems it fair to continue to supply new images of her that he does not need, considering it always ends with him getting a hard-on.

It’s getting out of hand.

Across from him is the girl herself, and he can’t help but stare at her. Arya looks even prettier than usual. The top sections of her hair are intricately braided to meet at the back of her head in a way Daenerys sometimes wears, and the strands of green and dark brown contrast in a way that is far too pretty.

She’s got glitter under her eyes again as well, and it shimmers pink and yellow as she shifts to pick up her drink. Arya had asked if he had wanted to pick up coffee before she shows him the newest cheerleading film, and he had readily agreed, even if he hadn’t understood the relevance of coffee to cheerleading.

But this is the closest Tommen’ll ever get to a real date with Arya, and so he’ll take it.

They talk easily over their drinks, and Arya teases him for drinking his with cream and sugars and he complains that hers is too devoid of anything sweet to be considered good. She talks him into trying hers and laughs when he chokes on the bitterness of it, but he thinks he would drink a million disgusting cups of black coffee just to hear her laugh.

At her house, they watch episodes of _Glee_ , and Tommen once again wonders of the cheer relevance. Sure, a few characters are cheerleaders, but it's nowhere near the main plotline. Maybe she’s given up on convincing him of how great cheer is. The thought makes his heart ache, just a bit.

It feels like she’s given up on him.

-

The final game of the season sees the King’s Landing team up against Stormlands High School, where his cousin Shireen is on the cheerleading team. In school the day of, Tommen can barely keep his eyes off of Arya. She’s in her uniform, seeing as it's not just a game day, but the final game of the season and the sight of her legs in the skirt makes him want to swoop down and kiss her more than ever.

Half her hair is still green and braided back in a few small braids to meet in one bun in the back of her head. Today, there’s not just glitter around her eyes, but in her hair too, the color of silver, down the length of the braids atop her scalp.

Around her eyes, the glitter shimmers green in the shade of emeralds, and there are once again small gems just below her eyes and along her lids in the shape of an arch. Her lips are glossy, too.

Fuck.

She’s entirely too distracting. Not that it’s her fault. Tommen needs to control himself, really. 

At lunch, he sits across from her and some of the other cheerleaders. Myrcella and Tyene sit beside him to his right with their arms wrapped around each other; Myrcella hasn’t officially come out to the school, but she’s far more comfortable with people knowing now and Tommen is happy with whatever she’s happy with.

Daenerys and Asha are wrapped around each other a bit more _intimately_ , namely making out beside Arya as she continues to eat her salad without care. They’ve probably kissed beside her enough that she’s used to it by now, and, besides. If there’s anyone who wouldn’t be squeamish when it comes to kissing and sex, its Arya Stark.

Sansa and Margaery are on Tommen’s other side talking quietly to each other and he’s about to ask Margaery for a napkin when Podrick sits beside Arya. He’s on the cheerleading team with the rest of the girls at the table (minus Asha, who prefers boxing and rowing) and the two begin to speak quietly.

Tommen blinks and looks around as Podrick leans closer to her to whisper something in her ear, but no one else at the table seems bothered. Daenerys and Asha have finally stopped kissing, but now Daenerys is sitting in her girlfriend's lap and feeding her crackers lovingly, which is adorable but somehow worse. 

Now all he can think about is Arya doing the same to Podrick. Or, maybe he would feed her?

Either way, he doesn’t like the thought of Arya and _Podrick_ being wrapped around each other. He looks back over to them, and whatever Podricks said in her ear, it's made her blush a pleasant shade of light pink. She whispers something back to him, possibly declaring her love for him, and Tommen has to look away.

He’s being ridiculous, really. If Arya and Podrick _are_ together, the least he could do is be supportive. Tommen feels bad now, really, and the jealousy in his chest falls away to make room for shame. Sure, he’s in love with Arya, but she more than anything deserves to be happy.

If she’s happy with Podrick, then Tommen can live with that. 

(It still makes his heart hurt a bit.)

He looks back up as Podrick stands from the table to see Arya watching him. He doesn’t hear the mumble of goodbye’s the girls send to Podrick as Arya continues to look at him.

“You alright?”

_I’m in love with you. I love you, I love you, I love you._

“I’m fine, just tired.”

She doesn't look convinced, so he forces himself to smile at her. She relaxes a bit and turns away to Dany, and doesn’t notice his smile drop. 

-

The rest of the day is spent with Tommen thinking of Podrick and Arya, and how much it’ll hurt if it turns out they’re together now. At the beginning of the game, he sees Podrick stretching behind the rest of the team. He’s never really noticed him there before, but now his presence seems so obvious.

His gaze shifts a few feet and lands on Arya, who’s already looking at Podrick. Tommen sighs and turns away, not seeing her gaze shift to him as he does. He just needs to get through this game.

At halftime, he wants to avoid looking at Arya, because he knows he’ll see Podrick stunting too and will just be thinking of them together, but this is the last game of the year. It’ll be the last time he’ll be able to see her cheer for a while, and Arya cheering and stunting is its own beacon of light.

She’s already on top of a pyramid when Tommen looks to the cheerleaders, and Daenerys is on top of her own pyramid. Tyene is on one as well to Arya’s right. The three stunting groups are all facing the audience in the stadium, but he’s standing near the edge of the field so his gaze of them is as if they’re a vertical line in front of him. 

The stunt changes and Arya’s moving too fast for him to count, twisting and flipping from where she was on top so she’s in the arms of the base's arms. They position her so her feet are back on the ground and then she’s back to cheering and waving her pom-poms, grinning as if she wasn’t just tossed a few feet into the air.

Despite his previous misery, Tommen can’t help the grin that overtakes his face. He’ll never understand how she can twist and move as she does so fearlessly. Arya will never cease to amaze him, never.

She turns her head and catches his eyes, still beaming and cheering with the rest of her teammates. She tilts her head, grin growing so he can see her eyes crinkling even from where he stands several feet away. He smiles at her, so large it hurts his cheeks, until she has to turn back to the crowd and he has to return to the field.

The rest of the game passes in a blur, and before Tommen knows it, they’ve beaten Stormlands High. The remainder of his team is shouting and tackling each other as they shout in celebration, while the audience in the stands is doing the same. Everyone is so screaming so loud he can barely hear himself think.

He’s turning and heading off the field before he can even think. He doesn’t even really know where he’s going until he’s nearing the cheerleaders, now having finished their cheers and swarmed by members of the stands. 

A few are talking with the cheerleaders, but most are just standing around them in one colossal huddle of people as they all continue to cheer for King’s Landing’s win.

“Tommen!” He instinctively turns at Arya’s shriek, barely having enough time to fully face her before she’s turning and jumping into his arms. She wraps her arms around his neck and legs around his waist as she laughs into his ear, and he thinks he’s laughing now too, and he doesn't really have much time to think before she’s pulling back and leaning in to kiss him.

Everything freezes around him as her lips meet his. They’re warm despite the chilly air around them, and a bit off-center because Tommen hadn’t expected her to kiss him. His hands are definitely on her ass. Otherwise, she’ll fall down and if she does that means she’ll have to stop kissing him, so he keeps them there and tries not to enjoy the feel of her ass too much.

Tommen moves his lips back against hers and she brings one of her hands up to his jaw, thumb tracing his cheek and he gasps at the contact. Arya uses him opening his mouth to slip her tongue inside, and- _oh._

She tastes like peaches and sweet sugar, and just something indescribably perfect that is so _Arya_ that he wants to cry. 

They both part eventually to breathe, staring at each other, before Tommen realizes where they are. No one around them seems to care they’ve just practically made out in the middle of the field considering a few other couples are kissing as well. 

Arya jumps back from his arms but brings her hand down to curl her fingers around is, which is more than alright with him. When she giggles suddenly, he looks from their hands to her face to find her staring behind her. He follows her vision to find half the cheer team and a few others staring at them with various expressions of disbelief, delight, and confusion.

Asha and Tyene are curled around their girlfriends looking understanding but otherwise uncaring. Their girlfriends, along with Sansa and Margaery are staring with dropped jaws but eyes full of joy. Beside them are Bran and Rickon ( _shit_ ), and while Bran maintains the expression of someone watching their favorite television show, Rickon looks disgusted. 

Tommen turns his face back to Arya with a groan and flaming cheeks, which grow redder as Daenerys cheers and she and Myrcella begin to clap. When he looks back at the girls, Sansa has started to clap as well, and Margaery is smiling at them while Dany has begun to bounce on her toes, clearly overjoyed.

A hand on his face makes Tommen turn back, and he looks in time for Arya to pull him back down for a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as Daenerys, or maybe Myrcella, shrieks in joy. Or maybe any of the other girls.

It's hard to pay attention to anything else when Arya’s lips are on his.

She pulls back far too soon, grin on her face and eyes bright. 

“Ready to go?”

“Where are we going, exactly?”

“Do you trust me?” She arches a brow at him, and his instant response is _Yes. Yes, more than anything._ She must see it in his eyes, because she doesn’t wait for his response before she’s pulling him away from the crowd, past their friends and towards the school.

He doesn't really know where they’re going, but he’d follow her anywhere at this point. 

-

She brings him to the gym, which is barely lit and a bit cold, but quiet. They’re alone, and that's all Tommen needs to tug her to his chest and swoop down, pressing another kiss to her lips. She deepens in, sighing into his mouth, and he can feel her body relaxing against his chest before she pulls back with a smile.

“Why are we here of all places?”

“I figured we needed a quiet place to talk, what with all the screaming outside.”

“I’m sure you were screaming as well.” He’s grinning at her, and she’s smiling too, and his arm is now wrapped around his waist as they stand in the middle of the gym.

“Well, I was cheerleading. I’m a _cheerleader_ , you know.”

He laughs and his cheeks flush as his fingers brush across the bare skin of her back. “How could I forget? You kept forcing me to watch all those cheer movies.”

She giggles at him and presses closer to his chest. “Did you learn anything, at least?”

“To be honest it was hard to focus when you were right next to me. I was watching you far more than the movie.” He nearly claps his hand over his mouth but forces it to remain behind Arya’s back. It’s not as if it’s a lie. He _had_ spent most of the time looking out of the corner of his eyes at her rather than pay attention.

“Oh.” Arya raises a brow at him, smirking. 

“I mean, I really only wanted to spend time with you anyways.”

He hadn't meant to say that part. He flushes as Arya realizes what he’s said and both brows raise, but her smirk remains.

“ _Oh._ ”

“Oh?”

Arya hums. “Hmm. I thought you wanted to learn about cheer?”

“Well, I did, I supposed, but more so I wanted to spend time with you, and understand cheerleading when you talk about it. Before this, it made no bloody sense when you talked about basket tosses and dismounts.” 

“And why did you want to spend time with me?” 

“Because I like you.” Arya’s smirk softens to a gentle smile and she leans up to kiss him once more, but Tommen has to correct himself or he’ll never get it out. He hates to do it, but he pulls back from her, heart flipping at her small pout. “Well, I don’t like you actually.”

Her brows furrow and she steps back from his embrace, eyes hurt.

“What?” She sounds properly pissed, and he realizes at once what he’s said, taking a step towards her even as she backs up more. “What do you mean?”

“No- no Arya, I just meant because I love you!”

She freezes, eyes widening as she halts in place. He uses her pause to step towards her slowly, moving his hands to hers and covering them with his own. 

“I love you,” Tommen repeats, almost whispering.

A moment passes, then another, and he starts to worry that he’s fucked it all up, but Arya starts to smile until she’s absolutely beaming at him. Biting her lip to try and contain her grin, she says, “Oh, good, I love you too.”

It’s his turn to freeze in place. Tommen had figured out Arya had liked him, albeit in the last ten minutes, considering she had kissed him while they were surrounded by hundreds of people, but he could never have even hoped for her to love him too.

She brings her hands to his face, cradling his jaw as she raises on her toes to bring her face closer to his, her still beaming and him beginning to smile.

“I love you, Tommen. I love you too.”

He leans down to meet her lips and presses his lips to her in a mad frenzy, letting every thought he’s ever had of her fill his mind. Every time he’s thought she could never be interested, every time over the past few years he’s caught himself staring and forced himself to turn away because she wouldn’t ever look at him that way.

Every time Tommen’s thought of her, every stare across the hall and the field, every moment he spent wishing he could kiss her but wouldn’t, every time he wanted more than anything to be hers.

She _loves_ him.

It makes his head spin and his skin feel as if it's on fire.

Tommen moves his arms to wrap around her waist and she jumps so her legs are around his waist, just as they had been on the field, their lips still connected. He walks them backward until he feels the wall behind him, spinning them so her back is pressed to it.

She breaks away to let out a gasp and he trails his lips down to her jaw, her neck, suddenly filled with unwavering confidence at the confirmation that she’s in love with him.

When he moves back to her mouth, she nips at his bottom lip, smirking at the whine he lets out in return. She grinds her hips down against him after a moment, repeating the action when he groans and breaks away from her mouth. They part after another minute, or maybe another hour, Tommen really can’t tell.

They kiss a few times more before they head back to the field, where their friends are still waiting for them. Myrcella does nothing to hide her grin as they approach hand in hand, and neither does Daenerys. Sansa only smiles at them, as does Margaery. Tommen notices Bran and Rickon are gone, probably having headed home already.

Myrcella starts to giggle into Tyene’s shoulder, making him look at her. She opens her mouth but erupts in another fit of laughter and falls back into her girlfriend’s shoulder, who speaks for her with a smirk.

“You have glitter on your cheeks.” He can see Arya grinning out of the corner of his eye, and even as he blushes Tommen doesn’t remove the glitter.

“Are we ready to go, then?” Asha asks, her arm wrapped around Dany’s waist. She turns her head to look at Margaery and Sansa. “I mean, Margaery, really. It’s _your_ party, we can’t be late.”

Margaery smiles and giggles. “Of course we can. I make the rules when I’m the one throwing the party, but you’re right, we should get going.”

They all nod and head to Margaery’s, where the girls change out of their cheer uniforms for Margaery’s after game party, and Tommen changes out of his own uniform after showering. Arya comes out of Margaery’s bedroom first, and Tommen thinks his heart stops when she does.

She must not have washed her hair, since it looks the same as it had before she had disappeared to change. But she’s changed into a slip dress that’s equally short and tight, and black in color. The glitter’s gone from her cheeks as well, her skin looking fresh and washed. While he’s sure Sansa must’ve tried to persuade her to wear heels, on her feet are black boots that he’s seen her wearing nearly every day to school.

Arya bounces towards him and leans up to kiss him, and Tommen doesn’t even care that his neck might hurt in the morning as he leans down and kisses back without a care in the world.

-

Tommen and Arya spend the party in nearly every room of Margaery’s house. In her kitchen, where they wrinkle their noses at weird drink mixtures and Arya laughs at his attempt at trying a shot. In the living room, where he and Arya spin around to the blasting music and lazily kiss in the dark lighting.

They move to each of the rooms as they try to find as many of their friends as possible after that, waving hello to each one. They find Sansa and Margaery surrounded by a crowd in the foyer, playing the perfect role of party hosts. When Sansa spots them, she gives the crowd a polite smile and pulls Margaery away in their direction.

“So, you two figured it out, I guess?” Sansa is looking at their joined hands, and Margaery keeps glancing at his mouth and giggling. Arya’s lip gloss has surely fully transferred to his mouth at this point. 

“Yep, thankfully.” Arya moves his hand so it’s propped around her shoulder, leaning into his side immediately after the space is free.

“Just took a while.” Tommen presses a kiss to the top of her hair, scrunching his nose at the feel of glitter against his lips. Arya giggles softly, which makes the scratchy feeling worth it.

“I agree. Took about two years too long, really.” All four turn to see Myrcella standing with Tyene a few feet away. “And it’s not as if you were subtle about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tommen sputters while Arya huffs an offended “Hey!”

Myrcella shoots him a look, then an apologetic one to Arya. 

“Alright, Arya you were better about hiding it. But, Tommen, really? _Shireen_ knew you were in love with her, and she doesn’t even go to our school.”

Tyene cackles and presses her face to Myrcella’s shoulder to muffle the noise, and Tommen can hear Sansa giggling quietly behind him. But it’s alright, really, because beside him Arya is smiling up at him, her eyes bright and grey and beautiful. 

“Well, we figured it out eventually,” Tommen mutters, eyes still locked on Arya’s. She bites her lower lip, and his eyes fall to it. Myrcella groans, but Tommen doesn’t spare her a glance as she pulls her girlfriend away, nor Sansa and Margaery as they giggle and head away from them.

He leans down as Arya leans up, so they meet in the middle to kiss. He bites her lip gently, relishing in the quiet moan she lets out. But soon enough he realizes they’re still in the foyer without any sort of privacy, and Tommen pulls away, even as much as he hates to do it.

Arya’s eyes are full of desire as she looks up at him, and her breath is ragged. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Arya raises a brow at his question.

“Are you sure?” He nods once, and she grins, nodding once, tugging his him out the door as he follows behind her.

-

They end up at her house, sneaking past the several direwolves on the way up to her room. The moment they’re inside her room and the door closes she’s pushing him against it, dragging her hands down his chest and her teeth down his throat.

He lets out a groan and tries to breathe as steadily as he can.

“Where- where are your brothers? And parents?”

Arya pulls back to answer, and says, “Out. They’re all gone for the weekend to visit my brother Robb at university. Sansa and I didn’t want to leave because of school.”

She presses herself against Tommen firmly, so her hips are slotted to his, and he groans louder.

“And I didn’t want to leave because of you.”

“Oh- oh. Well, I’m glad, l-love.” She smirks and he leans down and captures her lips with his, pushing her body back with his so they head in the general direction of where he remembers her bed to be.

Arya angles them so they move the right way, and eventually, the backs of her knees hit the bed. He pushes her down to the mattress until she’s sitting and he moves to his knees on the floor, leaning up so their lips remain connected. 

“Wait, hold on.” He moves back immediately, standing so Arya has space in case she wants to move away. She doesn’t. She only stands, reaching behind with her arms so she can unzip her dress, peeling the fabric down her body until it pools on the floor. 

As she straightens, he can see her bra clearly, and it's red and sheer. The sight of her breasts, smooth and perky and _perfect_ , covered in the red fabric, makes his head spin. Her underwear is made of lace and the same shade as her bra and he moves closer and brings his lips to her neck, his hands spanning her waist.

Tommen pulls back to see her face as he fully realizes this is _Arya_ in his arms, _Arya_ who he’s about to have sex with.

“I, I don’t know what I’m doing, Arya.” She cocks her head, but she doesn’t look bothered by what he’s said.

“Me neither.”

“Right, but I’m a virgin.”

“Yeah, me too. I don’t know what I’m doing either.” Arya shrugs, but she still looks confident and fearless, as usual.

“I just want this to be good for you.” Her eyes soften at his whisper and she brings one hand up to his cheek, leaning in to kiss him softly.

“Tommen, it will be good, because it’s with _you_. I love you. And we’ll figure it out together, alright?” A small smile forms on his face and he nods shyly. “So, just do whatever you want. I’ll let you know if I like it or not, but I’m up for anything, really.”

He breathes heavily as he thinks of the countless fantasies he’s had over the years involving Arya, Arya, and more Arya. Arya above him, below him, with her hands on him, or his on her.

Tommen nods, more to himself than her, and leans down further to bring his lips to her neck. She whines as he nips at her skin gently, the sound growing louder as the blond moves his hands up to cup one tit in his hand. Her head falls back as he squeezes the weight of her breast, still covered in lacy fabric, his other hand moving down lower on the curve of her waist.

Arya brings one shaky hand up to her hair as he kneels down slowly and begins to kiss down the length of her neck, her collar bones, her breasts. She unravels the braids from her hair, pausing to moan as he sucks a mark into her hip.

When he stands, knees a bit sore but his heart full, her hair is messy around her shoulders, a bit of glitter on her forehead and small trails of it still down her hair. She doesn’t need glitter to shine, really, but she still looks beautiful with it.

Arya moves her bra straps from her shoulders as he tugs his own shirt and pants off. Moving her hands behind her back to unhook her bra, the fabric falls away to reveal her bare breasts, shapely and smooth looking and just perfect.

He brings a gentle hand to one, cupping the mound to feel her without any fabric as a barrier, and Arya sighs sharply. Tommen leans down as much as possible to take one nipple in his mouth, tugging with his teeth so Arya’s breath hitches in her throat. He moves to her other breast and gives her other nipple the same treatment as he rolls the first with his fingers, and Arya pants quietly. 

Tommen's neck and back will hurt like hell tomorrow, but he knows the pain is worth it.

“I want to try something. Is that alright?” Arya nods, and he pushes her back to the bed as he had minutes before, moving back down to settle on his knees. Her eyes widen as she realizes what he’s about to do, and she leans back on her elbows as he kisses one of her knees, trailing his lips up her leg until he reaches the edge of her underwear.

Tommen pauses there, breathing shakily and looking up to meet Arya’s eyes. She grins down at him, eager as ever, and he hooks his fingers into the top of her underwear. She lifts her hips so Tommen can lower the fabric down her legs, closing them to do so. As soon as the fabric has fallen off of her ankles she’s opening them, spreading them wide without shame. 

Arya’s pink and wet and perfect as he takes her in, and he leans forward and presses his tongue to her, licking into her folds as she keens above him. Tommen’s a bit messy with his movements, as inexperienced as he is, but Arya sighs happily as he continues on.

As loud as Arya is when she’s on the field cheering, or in most other aspects of her life really, she’s quiet now, her moans soft as she grips his hair and tugs. It draws a groan out of him, and Arya whimpers shakily. 

Tommen moves his mouth up to suck at her clit, sliding a finger inside of her. She jerks her hips up and cries out, and he slides another in, pressing in further and moving them in and out of her cunt. Tommen keeps his mouth on her clit, grazing his teeth over the bud. He brings one of her legs up over his shoulder, pressing the other up and out so he has more access.

“Tommen. Please, please. I love you, Tommen, love. Please.”

He sucks harder, thrusting up with his fingers at the same time, and Arya sobs out what sounds like his name as she comes. He works her through her orgasm, curling his fingers gently and pressing the flat of his tongue against her clit.

When her breathing slows, no longer whimpering or moaning, Tommen removes his fingers from her, wiping his wet chin on the back of his hand as he stands up from the floor.

Tommen hadn’t seen Arya fall back from her elbows to her back, too focused on trying to pleasure her and not fuck up the first time he had his mouth on her, but she’s looking worn out from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Sweat is beaded on her forehead and her cheeks are flushed as she blinks up at him. She smiles slowly as she sits up and crushes her lips to him, her tongue slipping inside his mouth.

“Are you sure you haven’t done that before?” Arya’s words fill him with shy pride.

“Was that your way of saying it was alright?” 

Her expression is incredulous as she looks at him. “Are you serious? That was incredible, Tommen.” 

He blushes at her praise, and she pulls his body down on top of hers onto the bed. They scoot up so their heads are on the pillows, and Arya trails her hand down his shoulders and back. Her hand moves lower to cup his growing bulge and he moans into her mouth, making her smirk.

Her fingers trail back up to the edge of his boxers, and together they lower the fabric down his legs. Tommen pulls back for a moment just to take in the sight of the girl below him. He just wants to see her again.

She uses him pulling back to hook her leg around his hip and flip them around, so he’s flat on his back and she’s on top of him. His cock is _so_ close to her cunt, the heat of her just inches away, and they both know it, but they keep their eyes on each other, green on grey.

“Are you okay with this?” He needs to ask. Tommen will never forgive himself if Arya is doing this to give him pleasure when she doesn’t fully want to fuck yet. But Arya only smirks and grinds down against him, so close yet far from where he wants her. He squeezes her hips harder at the moment, and knows they’ll be bruises there tomorrow. 

“Yes, I do. Do you?” He nods, and she smiles. “I have a condom, hold on.”

She moves off to grab one from her bedside table, unwrapping it with her teeth (which only makes his cock harder) and together they roll it down his length. 

Arya settles over him again once the condom is over him, his hands over her waist, and one of hers goes down to his cock, positioning it to her entrance. They both moan as she pushes the head inside, and her eyes screw up in pain as she moves her body down inch by inch.

The heat of her is like nothing else, but he’ll be damned if he’s going to enjoy it while she’s in pain. She shakes off his concern when he asks if she’s alright, sighing a bit.

“You’re just bigger than my fingers is all. Or your fingers, actually.” Arya sighs after a minute of sitting still atop him, pain gone from her expression. She lowers herself an inch further, grinding down onto him, and he clenches his fingers around her waist.

She raises and lowers herself, taking him deeper this time around, and he moans loudly at the feel of her around him. She starts to move faster as she raises herself, sliding down instead of just grinding down his cock, and he thrusts up into her the next time she does so.

Arya keens, moaning the loudest he’s heard her all night, and he repeats the action, helping her slide up before thrusting up into her. It continues on for a few minutes more, their pace and moans growing before Tommen spills first, breath hitching. 

She’s still desperately moving above him as he comes down from his peak, and he brings a thumb to her clit, and he only has to rub a half dozen circles onto her flesh before she’s falling forward onto his chest and coming. 

They lie next to each other after, once they’ve used the bathroom and cleaned themselves up, facing each other under the covers and staring into each other's eyes with adoration.

“I love you, you know,” Arya whispers, lips tugging up into a smile. She’s beautiful in the afterglow of sex, her hair spread out on the pillow and still gloriously naked.

Tommen doesn’t know much. He’s seventeen, still maturing and growing and not yet an adult. He isn’t incredible at math, and still doesn’t understand cheerleading as much as he could, and doesn’t know how to make his mother stop glaring at him, because she’s still upset he’s in love with Arya. 

But there are some things he does know.

He knows Myrcella is happiest when she’s around Tyene, when she doesn’t have to hide being a lesbian and when Tyene looks at her with stars in her eyes. That surrounded by her friends is when she’s most carefree because she’s spent so long hiding herself away from the judgment of their mother and brother and absent father.

He knows Daenerys is fire and power wrapped into one small girl, that she could run an entire dynasty if she chose, but would do so with a gentle heart and a smile. For now, she’s only a teenager who continues to support and love her friends and family when they need it most.

He knows Sansa and Margaery faced insult after insult from Joffrey and remained standing despite his consistent hurling of slurs at them. He knows they’ll continue to face prejudice and abuse because they’re two girls who are together and in love, but they’ll do it with chins raised and hands clasped. And they’ll do it standing together.

Most of all, now, Tommen knows Arya.

Tommen knows Arya kisses as if she’s lived for thousands of years, as if she’s searched for him throughout time and only finally found him at the end of the world. She kisses him as if he is the only one she will ever love.

That Arya lives unapologetically, that she dyes her hair every color of the rainbow and wears clothing that shows skin and pierces her nose, because why the fuck not. Because she wants to live her life without any restraints or limits because that’s who Arya is.

She’s a beacon of light in the darkness, a flash of lightning in a storm. A bright flame who you can’t help but be drawn to.

And Tommen knows, more than anything, that he loves Arya. That he’ll never stop loving her. And that she loves him.

“Yeah, I love you too.” She moves closer, bumping her nose into his, and he chuckles as a thought crosses his mind. She turns questioning eyes to him. “You know… I think cheerleading is my favorite sport, even more so than football.”

Arya throws her head back and laughs, and the sound makes his heart beat twice as fast, even if his words are the farthest thing from a jest.

Cheerleading brought him the love of his life. It brought him Arya.


End file.
